THE WEST WING

DRABBLES

“Fear”

“Giddy”

“The Inability to Speak”

“Several Books Left in my Apartment Building’s Laundry Room”

Fear (Zoe)

Mr Willis of Ohio

She’s been scared before tonight. Before the college guys surrounded her, keeping Charlie away. Before her agents burst in and hurried her away.

When she was five, she’d been scared of the dark.

When she was eight, she’d been scared of her best friend’s German Shepherd - it jumped and licked and had long sharp teeth.

When she was thirteen she’d done everything she could to avoid the basement hallway at school. The senior boys had their lockers there. She didn’t like it.

Tonight she saw the mix of anger and terror on her father’s face.

Tonight, she saw fear.

Giddy (crossover with MDA; Abbey/Ella)

Ella was late to the keynote address. Thoracic wasn’t her area, but she still wanted to be there. This presenter was rumoured to be a brilliant public speaker, which wasn’t surprising, given the company she kept.

As Ella listened, she noticed the speaker. Really noticed her. The strength in her gaze, the gentleness of her voice. Eyes that seemed to pin you in your seat.

When Ella was introduced to her, she felt like a giddy schoolgirl.

A bottle of shiraz and a discussion of med-neg later, and she was still like a girl with a crush.

She didn’t care.

The Inability to Speak (CJ)

25

She’d had seven months to adjust. Seven months and many, many years. She could smile and she could compliment the names they chose and she could be speechless.

What she couldn’t do was say the word out loud. She tried. She tried when he told them Andi was pregnant. She tried when Toby said the twins had been born. She had tried, all those years ago, when Andi showed her the ring.

She’d never been able to swallow the lump in her throat and say the word aloud.

‘Congratulations.’

Several Books Left In My Apartment Building’s Laundry Room (Donna)

Note: possibly contradicted by The Inauguration – Over There.

One of these days she would find an apartment with its own laundry.

She was sick of shared facilities. Sick of the mess that other people left: Detergent and empty boxes. Single socks. Books to read while the dryer span slowly.

One of these days she would earn enough money to rent an apartment with its own laundry. And a gym.

But that would mean working somewhere else. With other people. No Charlie, no CJ. No Josh.

She picked up a book and opened it.

She raised her eyebrows. Coughed. Blushed. And kept reading.

Her clothes were spun bone dry.